To me,Words seem to flow Easier on paperThan from my lips.Insecurity, doubt, fearAre thrown awayWhen I pick up a pen and paper.I pour my soul out through words, finding comfort in the release.Mostly, I feel safe knowing that nobody would care to read these outbursts. And if they did,They wouldn't care who it was that wrote them. I write because the written word is dead To most of the world. But not to me. When writing I can be invisible Yet demand attention. Satisfying my hunger for expressionFearlessly and without regret. There are no rules and no boundaries. You ask why I write?Because writing allows me to be me.